


Never Fade Away

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Vira Volkova (V) [1]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual Tension, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: V (Vira)and Johnny have a late night chat.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Female V, Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Vira Volkova (V) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097468
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	Never Fade Away

**Author's Note:**

> • This is my first Cyberpunk fic with my V, Vira! I couldn’t help but make a V just to have her smooch Johnny because I fell in love during my first playthrough.  
> • This happens relatively soon after the "Transmission" main job when Brigitte does whatever she does to V. I saw the objective of "unblock Johnny’s memories" and took it and ran when it came to my headcanons for that, which pop up in here.  
> • This is still before the parade in "Play It Safe" so that final "Tapeworm" job where Johnny takes V to the Pistis Sophia hotel has not happened yet for these two. It’s relatively soon after this though, and for Vira & Johnny, that’s when they’re both just like "Ah, shit I’ve got ~FEELINGS~ for this person"
> 
> More info about Vira can be found on her website: [[ → ]](https://sites.google.com/view/viravolkova-v/home)
> 
> Title song is of course "Never Fade Away" by Samurai [ [listen & lyrics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AN1RJF55NXI) ]
> 
> **EDIT 3/10/21:** I went back and rewrote a small portion of this, just to fix some things and make it clearer on how Vira and Johnny were interacting in the first place. The way I see it, Johnny can only interact with Vira directly, and anything he does in the "real world" would be through her. Everything he does in his "virtual space" is all on him, but because he and Vira share a brain, it seems really _real_ to her and she can experience it as well. She can interact with him and the things he "poofs" into existence (cigarettes, his guitar, etc.) and he’ll feel it—again, shared brain—but she’s not actually interacting with anything in the "real world." To an outside observer, it would just look like some crazy chick talking to herself and reaching out to touch nothing.
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

V woke up suddenly, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, a thin sheen of sweat on her skin. Swallowing hard, she clenched and unclenched her fists, trying _not_ to think about what she’d just seen.

"Fuck," she mumbled to herself as she got up, making her way into the bathroom, the tile cold on her bare feet. She splashed cold water on her face, and took a good, long look at herself in the mirror.

She saw _herself_ , just V… just _Vira_. She wasn’t Johnny, and she sure as hell wasn’t Johnny fucking one of his endless groupies like she’d just relived in her dream.

Sex dreams weren’t new, but ever since Brigitte fucked with her head to contact Alt, she’d been reliving Johnny’s memories more and more. Unblocking her link to him or whatever the hell Brigitte had done just strengthened their connection… and now _her_ sex dreams had turned into _Johnny’s_ sex dreams—well, memories, really.

V registered movement in the mirror, and her eyes snapped to it, only to see Johnny’s form materialize behind her. Leaning against the wall, his arms were crossed, and he gave her a critical look as he looked her up and down over the edge of his sunglasses. "You need to get laid," he declared.

"Fuck you," she snapped."

He huffed a laugh. "You wish."

V groaned. Unfortunately, the shithead was right… if she was around in his day, she _totally_ would have fucked his brains out.

"More like I would have fucked yours out, but I 'preciate the thought," Johnny said, answering her thoughts with a smirk.

Rolling her eyes, V stalked out of the bathroom and plopped down on the couch. Normally, she’d just rub one out when she woke up hot and bothered, but she wasn’t about to do that with Johnny hanging around, so she opted for her other option—sit around and listen to music until she passed out. She was right about to turn on the radio when she realized she’d stopped listening to her usual rock stations because Samurai had kept coming on.

For fuck’s sake… she couldn’t touch herself _or_ listen to her favorite music anymore.

Instead, she sat back and propped her feet up on the table, Johnny materializing next to her, his position mirroring hers. He offered her one of his cigarettes, and she took it from him, her fingers brushing against his as she grabbed it, the brief touch of his warm skin startling her.

Taking a long drag of the cigarette, she marveled at the fact that they could _touch_ each other now, that she could even take his virtual cigarette and it felt like she was actually smoking a real one. They’d fucked around earlier, poking and prodding at each other to experiment and see just _how_ they could interact, and it was entirely too _real_. V didn’t really know how it worked, but clearly the biochip was working, _really fucking fast_ —that, or it was another side-effect of Brigitte’s meddling in her brain.

Johnny, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care. She offered him the cigarette and he took it, and started smoking like he always did, not giving her a second glance. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut, and they sat there sharing the cig in companionable silence.

"Totally would’ve been a Samurai groupie," he said, ruining the moment.

"Really hope you’re not talkin’ 'bout me," V warned, glaring at him. He had that stupid smirk on his face again, and she wondered if she could smack it the fuck _off_ his face since they could physically interact now.

"Yeah, I’m talkin’ 'bout you," he clarified. "Could picture it right now."

"Fuck, no!" she said, snatching the cigarette out of his hand and taking a quick drag. "Just because I like your music you think I would have followed you around and dropped my pants anytime you looked at me?" She shook her head. "No fuckin’ way. I’ll admit I’d have fucked you if we met, but not because I’d have been a _groupie_."

"For my charmin’ personality, then?"

"Because I’m not a gonk. You’re _Johnny Silverhand_ ," she replied, emphasizing his name with false gusto. "You’re hot and I’m into the whole rockerboy thing. It’s as simple as that."

Johnny just huffed, grabbing the cigarette out of her hand.

"And for the record, you’re not the only rockstar I’d fuck if I had the chance," V clarified. "Your old bandmate Kerry? I’d totally bang him." That was met with a roll of his eyes, and she continued. "The frontman of Cartesian Duelists? Good god, I’d fuck that man. Let’s not forget their guitarist, too. And the singer from Cutthroat—"

"Christ, V, I get it," Johnny said, cutting her off. "Startin’ to sound like me."

"Hey, I had a perfectly healthy sex life before you came along." He handed her the cigarette and she took it. "Wasn’t actually banging any rockerboys, but I still did just fine for myself."

Raising his eyebrows, Johnny tilted his head down and looked at her over the edge of his sunglasses. "I know."

It was her turn to roll her eyes, because _of course_ he knew—the asswipe was living in her head.

"I wouldn’t call gettin’ high and drunk and pickin’ up randos at bars _healthy_ ," Johnny added.

V narrowed her gaze at him. "Look who’s talkin’. You’re the one who’d fuck anythin’ that moved and can identify drugs by their fuckin’ _scent_."

" _Sommelier_ , remember?"

"Who needs to scan shit when you’re around. Just have Johnny sniff it like a police dog," she finished, taking another inhale from their shared cigarette. She gestured to it and sighed. "You’ve even got me fuckin’ smokin’ again."

"Thank fuck."

V groaned and sat back, closing her eyes as she tried to relax. If she could just put the radio on, listen to a few songs…

"Stop bein’ a stubborn bitch and turn it on like you normally would," Johnny said, and she opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Would she _ever_ have some peace and fucking _quiet_?

"Stay out of my thoughts, asshole."

"Can’t help it."

"For fuck’s sake…"

"Turn it on."

"And risk having _you_ come on?" she said, glancing at him. "Because I don’t have to listen to you enough? No thanks."

"Better think of somethin’ quick," Johnny pointed out. "Less sleep you get, more tired y’are… more tired y’are, more tired I am."

"Of course. It’s _always_ about Johnny."

"Fuckin’ right it is," he said, and she just shook her head. "So let’s go. Jack off, listen to some tunes or somethin’, anythin’ to help you go back to fuckin’ sleep."

"Hey, I’m a lady—"

He snorted. "Sure y’are."

"—I don’t _jack off_."

"Fine, whatever you wanna call it, just do it already."

Wrinkling her nose, V scowled at him. "Not in front of _you_."

Johnny snatched the cigarette back out of her hand and inhaled deeply from it before he pinned her with another one of those smirks of his. "Like I haven’t seen it in your memories."

"Probably the first thing you went lookin’ for, you fuckin’ pig," V snapped, and he just casually shrugged.

"You’ve seen mine, I’ve seen yours…"

Oh, she’d seen his alright. Her thoughts flashed back to the dream—no, _memory_ —that had woken her up in the first place, and she swallowed hard. The things he’d done with his hands… with his fucking _mouth_ …She shuddered. _Christ_.

As much as V hated to admit it, Johnny was right… she really _did_ need to get laid. But at that moment, it wasn’t going to happen, so she ignored the way her body had warmed up at the thought of that fucking dream.

"Still not happening," she breathed out, turning her focus back to their conversation.

Johnny just shook his head and disappeared, before re-materializing back on the couch with a guitar in his hands. V perked up at the sight, sitting up straighter as she watched him tune the instrument, plucking at the strings and playing a few notes.

"What’re you doin’?"

"Won’t turn on the radio either so you leave me no choice," he said simply, and she grinned, sitting up excitedly.

"Oh my god!" she squealed, her voice higher pitched than normal. "Johnny Silverhand playing live just for me!"

"Fuck off."

Laughing, she settled in comfortably on the couch and waited for her private little concert to start. When Johnny started playing, she recognized the song as one of Samurai’s singles, _Black Dog_. He didn’t sing, content to just play the guitar, focused on his task. The song started out less harsh than some of Samurai’s other songs, and V was mesmerized by the soft notes of the guitar and the way his fingers expertly moved across the instrument.

Plus, as a fan of rock music and Samurai, it was pretty fucking cool to see Johnny Silverhand playing guitar in the flesh—well as close to "in the flesh" as either one of them would ever get.

V closed her eyes, a wave of calm settling in over her, and it wasn’t long before she was lulled to sleep by the repetitive strumming of Johnny’s music.

\- - - - -

Johnny played through the entirety of _Black Dog_ and was a third of the way through _Never Fade Away_ when he was sure V had fallen asleep. He kept playing, deciding to finish the song… just in case.

He knew the songs by heart, playing them so many times that they were muscle memory at that point, and he glanced over at her, the merc he shared a brain with, taking in her sleeping form as he played his guitar.

Her head had drooped to the side, her hair falling forward, obscuring most of her face. She didn’t look like much in the plain, old tank she was wearing over her underwear, but he’d seen her take down goons without even pulling the trigger of her trusty pistol. V was… more than meets the eye—he’d know, he lived in her head.

… And he was slowly killing her.

Johnny had been thinking about his and V’s situation, and he knew one of them wasn’t going to make it out of this whole shitshow alive. Either he was going to take over her body and snuff her life out, or she was going to get him out of her head and he’d be dead, again. And for some fucking reason, he’d been starting to think that maybe, just maybe, _she_ was the one who should end up surviving this mess.

What the fuck had gotten into him?

Johnny finished playing the song and then disappeared, popping back into reality with a cigarette instead of the guitar. He kept staring at V while he smoked, brows furrowed, a frown settling on his lips when her head slid off the back of the couch onto her shoulder, leaving her neck all crooked and bent at an awkward angle. If she slept like that the rest of the night, she’d probably end up with a painful kink in her neck, and that was the last thing he wanted… because then _he_ would end up with a painful kink in _his_ neck.

That’s why he cared, he told himself as he stood, looking down at her with his hands on his hips. They could touch now, so he should be able to just adjust her sleeping position, and then he could be off and done with this shit.

"Fuck it," he grumbled, and bent down, hooking his chrome arm under her back, and his organic arm under her legs. He lifted her and froze, expecting her to wake up from the sudden movement, but she just breathed deeply, her head falling to rest on his chest. _Shit_ , she must have been exhausted… either that, or she’d gotten too comfortable with him watching her six.

Walking her over to the bed, Johnny unceremoniously placed her down onto the mattress and hovered over her, making sure she stayed asleep. When V didn’t stir again, he nodded to himself and got ready to disappear into the recess of her mind he went to when he wasn’t dropping in on her. He took a final glance down at the sleeping merc, and the lyrics to _Never Fade Away,_ the second song he’d played to lull her to sleep, floated through his mind.

_But a thing of beauty, will never fade away…_

Yeah… he was almost positive he’d make sure that’s exactly what would happen.

He ignored the sharp something he felt near his heart at _that_ thought, and promptly disappeared into the back of V’s head, one final thing on his mind before his thoughts went dark.

_Fuck me._


End file.
